


Today on r/ThatHappened: Anime Convention Edition

by saturniidead



Category: Interconnected Fallacies, Original Work, Penman’s Position!!
Genre: Dildos galore, M/M, Original Character - Freeform, trans man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 04:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18653035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturniidead/pseuds/saturniidead
Summary: Somehow, you find yourself in the hands of the infamous Zosma Sugiyama, and your feelings are getting the best of you. How will he react to your flirtatious advances, hmm?





	Today on r/ThatHappened: Anime Convention Edition

**Author's Note:**

> You slimeballs asked for this and against all odds have finally received. Enjoy this. Zosma is hilarious to write, and yinz are Too Horny for him. This was sloppily made so don’t rip into me too hard, just shut up and eat your dinner.
> 
> I left the reader kinda ambiguous but Zosma is a gay man, and I wrote it from the perspective of another trans man so do whatever you want with that info.
> 
> (If you’ve somehow randomly stumbled upon this: this is a fic about my OC Zosma. I post more about my characters and their worlds which I’m working on making into a comic soon on instagram @saturniidead, please check it out for context, lmao)

After a long day on your feet, you find yourself in an unexpected situation. Given the chance, if you went back to this morning and said “Hey, you’re going to meet your favorite indie writer/model/pornstar and get to spend the day with him!” you’d laugh at yourself. But here he is, walking with you out of the convention center, babbling his opinions on the last panel you both attended before the con closed. He has some strong thoughts on how the panel was presented with the host using mostly opinions to criticize the anime reboot. You haven’t been able to follow most of what he’s saying, more focused on making sure your sore feet don’t connect with bumps in the sidewalk. 

Snapping fingers bring you back to his words, “They don’t research these panelists!”, his snaps seem to just be emphasizing his points, not scolding you, “Since the stupid expansion of the building, and SakuraCon happening literally TWO MONTHS afterwards, they don’t seem to care about quality, just quantity to keep badge sales. The lack of self respect is just- UGH.”.

Hands slap against his face, issuing a chuckle from you. Backing him up, you agree, you’ve noticed the lack of care going into the convention too, it’s disheartening. Continuing his thought, he keeps growling out insults towards the con, “Watch, this will be my last year. If you are going to ask me to pay SEVENTY FIVE dollars to walk around inside of a building, I want the con to give me something to suck on. I shouldn’t be relying on attendee run meetups to entertain me- we can do that shit for free at a park but GOD FORBID WEEBS GO OUT IN THE SUN! Nobody has a spine anymore, like, buy some sunscreen you assholes!”.

You’ve met him before and followed him for years online but, you’ve never experienced him like this. His temper isn’t nearly as apparent online, but weirdly enough, it’s pretty entertaining. Giving his speech a few hearty claps of approval draws a proud smile from him, “Well, someone had to say it. Kids can’t keep convincing their parents to buy these expensive tickets, and adults aren’t all idiots- well, mostly. Maybe I should just start my own con and show them how it’s done?”.

Glancing at him inquisitively warrants an embarrassed laugh from him, “Ok ok, I’m too worked up now, what am I even thinking? Zoscon would be fucking terrifying and we all know that.”.

You heavily agree with him, but admit that it could be a fun mess too, which he quickly dismisses, “Fights would break out, people would be ripping into my works like savages, fucking- the after hours panels. The potential of those is enough to keep me up at night. Cringe comps of my streams-“.

Interjecting with laughter, you ask if that’s happened, and he reassures you, “No... not yet. And we are doing everything to keep it that way, kapieche?”. 

Following orders, you agree with him, as funny as that would be. Happy, but exasperated he stops at a vintage Vespa, decorated in faded stickers, and he looks at it in surprise, “God damn, sorry for walking you clear out here with- uh, whatever’s on my mind.”.

Hurriedly you explain that it’s no problem, and his company has been the highlight of your con experience. It’s easy to get lost in his words. Turning to you he seems almost embarrassed, not making eye contact, “AH! That’s a pretty controversial opinion there... I’m glad that I somehow salvaged something from that shitfest for somebody. You weren’t half bad yourself.”, laughing at his own joke seems to bring his demeanor back, “Well, I ought to let you go live your life and get back to your car. Fingers crossed you didn’t park on the opposite end of the universe.”.

Hesitantly, you lay the news on him that by ditching your friend group to panel crawl for hours with him, you lost your ride in the process. Grimacing he hops onto the seat of his Vespa, “Well, guess I get to play the hero here.”, rings tapping on the handlebars, “Want to hop on my pussy magnet? I’d make a stranger danger joke but, I’m lacking the candy to really fulfill the punchline.”.

You gawk at him, but know it’s this or riding a bus with a bunch of strangers. This seems somehow better. He pats the space behind him, “Hurry up if you’re coming!”, he pauses, realizing that his bulky ita bag was in the way and removes it, looking embarrassed.

Shyly, you take the bag from his grasp and put it onto your back, climbing onto the seat behind him. You’ve sat fairly close to him at panels, shoulders brushing, but this is different. The engine starts and you instinctively grab his waist, falling forward onto his shoulder. He’s warm, smelling faintly of sweet cologne and... maybe sweat? The radio flicks on, and he looks over his shoulder to you, “Don’t be shy, I’d rather you rearrange my guts than fall off. My medical insurance is better than my auto.”. 

Letting your arms wrap around him, you two take off down the street. You didn’t notice earlier since it’s not visible, but his stomach is actually soft, not toned or skinny. He’s rough around the edges but, it adds to the overall experience, complimenting his abrasive personality. Thinking about him and what is dangerously becoming romantic feelings is put to a halt as he stops at a red light, speaking to you over the soft music, “So, where to? I’m happy to drive around town but my feet want these shoes off soon.”.

Without thinking, your jumbled feelings push words from your lips, “Your place.”.

Feeling him stiffen, you begin to start mentally kicking yourself. He was just being nice to a fan, and maybe wanted to make a friend- great job trashing that! His focus stays on the light at the other drivers around you, but he breaks the uncomfortable silence, “Seriously?”.

Jumping right in, you apologize for being so hasty and you don’t want to pressure him into advances of any kind, especially after his generosity, but he stops your rambling right as the light turns green, “I mean... I’m not opposed.”.

Heat rushes to your face as he takes off again, not bothering with directions. Your mind is in a whirl with what his response means. Wind traces along both of you, pushing his scent back to you, and you’re beginning to mind it less. Just suggesting going to his place implies something sexual. Did he mind, did he want that? You said that all without thinking, but the more you think about it, the more butterflies appear in your stomach. 

At another red light you’re pulled away from your drifting thoughts by one of his hands coming down to rest over yours, tapping it gently, “Hey... to be clear... this isn’t some kind of sick prank to steal my manga collection or some shit? No offense.”.

Taken aback by his bluntness, and the beads of sweat on his palm, you quickly assure him that... well. This is genuine interest. He’s intelligent, free thinking, and charming in the strangest ways possible. Relieved, he lets out a sigh, “Good, good... I’m not paying for that much manga again, so don’t try any shit.”.

Only slightly, you could notice some wavering in his voice. It’s adorable how he’s seeming to avoid the compliments. His hand leaves yours to keep driving as the street is lit up green, so you hug yourself closer to him, paying more attention to your surroundings. The two of you have spent practically all day, even lunch, together and you’ve commented back and forth a bit online, so his seemingly reciprocated interest isn’t too hard to believe. Still, riding through the glittery streets holding onto him is dreamlike. 

Drifting your focus from the nighttime scenery, your gaze is brought back to him. His thumbs tapped nervously at the handlebars, the only giveaway of how he was feeling. You can’t help but to wonder what’s on his mind, and what’s to come once you arrive at your unknown destination. Pausing at another light, he runs his fingers over your arm, “So seriously, none of my valuables are at stake? Reassure me that you aren’t a cannibal or something either at least.”.

To scold him, you hit his leg, joking that of course, you’ve been craving a 5 dollar foot long with his flesh as the centerpiece. This pulls a good snort from him, and he continues on. It hits you that your one hand is still on his leg, but he never bothered to move it, so you decide to leave it. The speed of the Vespa decreases, and you notice a looming apartment building, which Zosma pulls up to. He takes you two back into a parking lot right behind it and parks, turning the machine off. Gently nudging you, he announces, “Well, here’s my place and your last chance to say sike and ditch me.”.

Angrily, you slap his leg again, telling him you’re actually glad to be here, especially after such a great day. Casually, he retorts, “Don’t take it too seriously, chief, it’s alright. Let’s head the hell up then.”.

Reluctantly, you let go and ease yourself off, waiting for him to do the same. Jingling the keys on his lanyard, he takes the lead walking up to the building, actually holding the door for you. Unable to catch yourself, you slip out a snide comment that he’s keeping chivalry alive, barely. Playing off of the joke he swings a fake punch towards you, which warrants another scold from your lips, “Real gentlemen don’t act like that!”.

Laughing heartily, he gives you a devilish look, “Bold assumption that I’m a gentleman.”, and quickly jogs past you down the hall.

Pursuing him, you nearly grab him, but the last moment he pushes up against the wall, hiding in the crook of an elevator door. His hand fishes out for the button as you stumble past, leaving both of you giggling. The doors open behind him and you rush forward to shove him inside, warning him not to underestimate you. Not really realizing the momentum put into your push, the both of you are sent in to connect with the opposite wall of the elevator. Zosma grunts, but quickly grabs you by the collar, pulling you closer, “Don’t test me either, asshole.”.

Your noses are no more than an inch apart, his pants from the workout hot on your face, leading you to both become flustered. He quickly excuses himself to press the respective button for his floor, then turns back with red cheeks. The doors shut, and the sight of him further ignites the playful energy in you, “Don’t tell me what to do! What’s so wrong with me testing you?”.

Clearing his throat, he scoffs, “Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”.

Rolling your eyes at him, you pull at the cuff of his sleeve, your tone serious, “Of course I would.”.

The redness blossoms further, and he grabs your hand, holding it to his wrist. With a ding, the doors open again, and he pulls you out with him, whispering, “Well, let’s see about that.”.

Walking you down the hallway, he stops abruptly at a door, taking his hand away to jumble with his keys, as you let your hand slink down to intertwine with his. Nervously he jams a key in and pushes inside, removing it with a tug of the lanyard. Tossing it, it unceremoniously clinks onto a coffee table and slides off. Suddenly, he freezes up, tugging his hand back, “One second.”.

Watching in confusion, he scampers off to a far door back behind the sectional couch and knocks. After no response, he sticks his head in and calls out a name, “Apis?”.

Satisfied with finding nothing, he jogs back with a thumbs up, “I knew my roommate was out but... better safe than him catching me with my ass out again, or worse.”.

Puzzled, you laugh, asking if he planned to have his ass out this evening. Realizing his words, he shrugs, “Well, that depends on a lot of things, like-“, he catches your pleased expression and trails off, “-if you like my ass or not.”.

Easily, you admit that you’ve seen it quite a bit online, and it’s not a bad ass. Strangely, this seems to give him some gusto. Taking immense pride in his work, he opens the door, albeit with difficulty, that’s closest to you both, “So, you’ll recognize this dumpster fire? Do you subscribe to my shit?”.

Looking into the dimly lit room, you nod to both, telling him he’s too hot to pirate, he’s worth every cent. Grinning, he leaps through the door over piles of clothes, boxes and other miscellaneous things to the bed in the center. Climbing on, he spreads his legs and shoots you finger guns, “Is this worth every step at a shitty con?”, he begins kicking his shoes off, “Now get in here and claim this ass, if you can.”.

Determined, you leap in, but quickly figure out that navigation is difficult when things are stacked almost to your knees everywhere on the floor. Focused on your work of not crushing anything that seems important, you slowly find footing to crawl closer to the bed. Zosma is focused on disrobing from con, removing his belt, jacket, and badge, tossing them all randomly into the mess. It’s no wonder his room got this disastrous. 

Grabbing a nearby chair for balance, you step over some books, and papers that seem to be schoolwork, which is oddly laying next to a marbled blue and green dildo. Actually, at your close perch to his bed, you notice an abundance of different toys scattered around, especially around the bed. Bracing yourself on the shelf next to where he lays in wait, you notice a collection of lubricants too. Hoisting yourself next to the man, he pushes more garbage from the mattress into the piles to make room for you. 

Looking around, still tallying the amount of toys you see, you suggest he finds a better system of storage, especially with their importance to his work. Brushing off your concern, he explains, “Trust me, I can find any of the most important ones with ease. Check it.”.

Reaching over the side, he comes back with one of his thick glittery dildos covered in ridges, a stream regular. Dropping it back down, he crawls go the end of the bed, pushing open a box, brandishing a knotted dildo with a tube and syringe. It clacks back in, and he reaches into the case of the large pillow about to fall of the bed, picturing a well dressed vampire, pulling out a dildo with a round vibe at the bottom, slapping it against his hand, “This bad boy doesn’t come live with me much but, wow, what a fucking legend for personal use.”. 

Without hesitation, he pushes the body pillow off, and kneels close to you, sticking the toy down the front of his pants. You can feel your face heat up, watching him unzip the cuffed lavender pants, leaving the button fastened. He pulls out a packer, tossing it onto the bed next to your arm, it still warm from the heat of his body all day. From the fly of the pants, you see the toy emerge, just the shaft sticking out, making it appear almost indisputably like his own. 

Proudly smiling at you, he wiggles it, “Goddamn amazing isn’t it? This sexy devil is a strap on, no straps, AND, it vibrates... if I charged it.”, he grabs the shaft, pulling it forward to reveal the concealed viberator, pressing a button, “Oh, yeP!”.

His voice cracks pretty badly, and he clicks the button again, letting out a breathy laugh, “Now, that fucking works all right.”, he looks around then looks straight at you, “Uh... Anyways, what was I even trying to prove by this?”.

Gawking from his lack of modesty, you struggle to answer his question. He’s sitting with a dick sticking out of his pants! Tongue peeking out boredly, he swings it side to side. Still in awe of your situation, an idea dawns upon you, “How about you show me more of what it can do?”.

Hips halting, he makes eye contact again, usually tired eyes wide, “You mean... like-“.

Confidently, you nod, tugging him closer, getting him to lean into your pull, noses brushing. Spreading your legs, you urge him to move between them, and he does bracing himself up with his arms. He watches you in surprise, “Wait, really?”.

Moving your hands to play with his hair, you smile at him, “Of course! If that’s alright with you.”.

Seeming unsure what to do with himself he looks around, looks down, then looks back at you. Starting to worry, you begin to explain that it’s fine if he’d rather do something else, but he cuts you off with a hasty kiss. His saliva coats your lip, and you try to focus on something instead of the stubble that uncomfortably pressed against your skin. After a heated moment he breaks away, coughing, “S-sorry, Jesus... I-“.

Pulling him back, you give him a quick peck on the lips, “Are you aright? We don’t have to.”.

Shaking his head, he explains himself, “Nonono, trust me, I’m 100% down, I’m just...”, he chuckles meekly.

It takes you to moment to register what he’s leading onto, “Inexperienced? Don’t tell me you’re...”.

Another rough kiss halts your words, pushing you flat onto the pile of blankets and pillows. Picking himself up from the fall, he looks away, somewhere between mad and embarrassed, “That- that doesn’t matter just... fucking bare with me, alright.”.

Amused, you tell him you don’t mind, and you pull his scruffy chin to close the divide. Locking lips, he leans down into you, pressing the toy up against you without noticing. Hands drifting, you pull his hips closer feeling the length grind nicely. Understanding his situation, you give him the liberty of some assistance, locking your leg around him, pushing him to continue. Pulling back from the hard kiss, he gasps, wiping spit from his lips, “One sec.”.

Sitting back up, he fumbles with the phallus, turning it on before returning to his position on top of you. The soft massage plus the pressure feels fantastic, and he seems to think so too, his breathing heavy against your neck. Your arms wrap back around him as he picks up the pace. Tentative scratchy kisses pepper on your cheek and neck as he continues, gradually starting to let out noises. As much as you like this, you’re still fully clothed, “Zosma, don’t tell me that this is all it can do.”.

Hips still rocking, he murmurs, voice gravely, “I just jerk off with it so I can cum on my stomach for them cis vibes, but... I’m happy to test it out for it’s more uh-“, he can’t resist smiling, “practical purposes.”.

Leaving once again, he abandons the bed, maneuvering well to his desk, pulling his phone from his pocket to plug it into some speakers. He unlocks it, tapping the screen, “Now, I hope my refined tastes don’t piss you off, but I need a full mood to get it on.”.

Hearing the beginning words to What You Won’t Do for Love was, well, not how you expected this to go. Zosma deposits his phone and turns to the shelf next to you, fumbling in a tin, then pulling out a condom. Tossing it to you and grabbing a bottle of lube, he’s back between your legs, shaking the viberating shaft lightheartedly, “Lead the way, broski.”.

Howling in laughter you lightly kick him, then start shuffling out of your pants, throwing them to his desk chair. His gaze follows your movements intently, so you seductively run a hand up your thigh to the waistband of your underwear, “Want these off? You should do something about it, bromeo.”.

This urges his sweaty hands to your hips, gently playing with the waistband, his hand running very close to your crotch, then back up. Tugging at them gently, “Then lift your damn ass, brohan.”.

Complying, you do, and he tugs the garment free, exposing yourself to him. Gently, his hands return to your thighs, slowly massaging them as he stares down in amazement. He notices you monitoring his state, and looks away hurriedly, grabbing the condom off of your stomach, opening it aggressively. Pushing it out of its package too harshly, it flops onto the sheets, leaving Zosma to groan in displeasure. Disregarding his failure, he picks it up, pinching the tip and rolling it down, “Shhh, you didn’t see that. Got it?”.

Your face scrunches in a jokingly disgusted look, “Sure, fine. Didn’t see what... bromeslice?”.

Gladly, he begins to slowly jerk off the dick, clicking his tongue in approval to your reply, “No condom allergies right? Shit wait.... I mean to ask if you, brobama, have any condom allergies.”.

Amused, you shake no. From there, he leans back down, you feel the toy touch you directly, making your body quiver. The lube bottle clicks open from one of Zosma’s hands, and a moment later you feel the hand fish between your two bodies, coating the condom in wetness. Before his hand returns to the bed, it softly presses up against your crotch, wiping off the rest of the lubricant. His fingers were so close to entering you, and it makes you crave the feeling of the strap on.

He continues to softly massage the shaft against you, pace getting rapidly faster, huffing into your ear. It feels splendid, but you still crave more, holding tightly to his back, “Please, Zosma, can you just fuck me already.”.

Adjusting his position he looks at you genuinely, “I’m not here to shit on frotting but, you sure you don’t need a real warm up? I’m not a good example, if you’re trying to be like me and just go straight into shit like a bad bitch.”.

Exasperated you let him know you need him, and you will be fine, or make him pay the ultimate price if you’re wrong. With a sigh, he gives you a playful eye roll, grabbing the toy to guide it towards your entrance. Paying close attention to you, he eases it in painstakingly slow, being cocky, “Everything all rainbows and sunshine still, bromosexual?”.

You wrap your legs back around him, and administer a hearty kick to punish him for still joking. This not only shocks him, but pushes him deep inside you, forcing a moan out of you. He trembles, relocating his arms to slip under your armpits to cradle you, “You... ok?”.

Whimpering, you beg him to keep going, and he’s quick to oblige. He pulls back and pushes back in tentatively, slowly figuring things out, brushing his prickly face against the crook of your neck. You appreciate his pace but your arousal has been boiling for so long now, begs still spilling from your lips. His lips strongly kiss at your neck, trying to hold back grunts and whines, seeming to get worked up from all of your noises and words, 

Your impatience doesn’t seem to be a problem, because his trusts do pick up, actually milking out some moans from Zosma. Everything goes warm every time he hilts himself in you and releases a noise, his voice so masculine and aroused. He’s undeniably better in person. Kisses drag up to your jawline, and back to your lips, wet and excited. The both of you sing noises to each other, muffled by the kiss. 

Shakily, you pull up one of your legs, helping to adjust where his thrusts land. Taking notice, he clumsily removes his shirt, wiping a moist hand on his pants, helping to hold it up. Your shirt had already rolled up beyond your stomach, so you could feel his hairy one brush up against yours. The sight of him in jeans and a binder, sweating and trying to stay quiet was... well... nothing short of a godsend. He should open a tier for this sometime, because you’d absolutely pay.

Returning to kiss you, his hand pushes your leg back further, pumping back and forth frantically, hitting you somewhere perfect. Your nails scratch against the slick fabric of his binder as you turn away to cry out, pleading with him to keep hitting there. With his mouth free, he lets out the beautiful moans you’ve heard on streams and in videos, but not inhibited by poor buffering quality. It’s almost too much. Thrusts sloppy, he’s clearly as close as you, building up the welling heat in your stomach as he continues to hit the perfect spot.

His legs become shaky against you, his handsome noises raising in pitch and volume. With only a few more hits, he gets the heat to spill over, hitting you like a wave as you orgasm around him loudly. Releasing his grip on your thigh, he hugs you close to him, pushing a few last thrusts in, loudly reaching an orgasm alongside you. Using almost no precision he removes the vibrating toy from his pants, collapsing on top of you.

Everything about it is adorable, his tired pants, his loving hold... well until the tossed toy collides with his speakers, cranking the once calming but cheesy background music to ear bleeding volume. Zosma with as much grace as the throw scrambles from the bed to unplug the speakers, yanking the power strip from the outlet, plunging the both of you into darkness.


End file.
